Tell Me You'll Stay At Least A Little While
by chalantness
Summary: for Chalant Lover. Prompt: Zatanna's jobs aren't paying the bills, and Dick insists that she come live with him / If he starts thinking about his new roommate like that the very first day she's moved in, they're going to be in trouble. Or, at least he will be.


**Title: **_Tell Me You'll Stay At Least A Little While  
_**Rating:** mostly T  
**Word Count:** 12,200+  
**Characters:** Dick/Zatanna  
**Summary:** If he starts thinking about his new roommate like_ that_ the very first day she's moved in, they're going to be in trouble. Or, at least _he_ will be.  
**Prompt:** Zatanna's jobs aren't paying the bills, and Dick insists that she come live with him.

**For:** Chalant Lover. It was so easy to get carried away with this prompt (:

**Tell Me You'll Stay At Least A Little While**

Dick has twenty-two unread texts by the time he steps out of the shower he always takes around 10:00 to wash away the smell of an evening patrolling. They're all from Wally, and Dick just sighs and pushes a hand through his wet hair and contemplates deleting them without reading any.

And he's about to, really, when his screen lights up again and it's a call from Wally instead of a text. "Hello?"

"Are you ignoring me or something?"

"What are you, my wife?"

Wally scoffs on the other end. "Uh, dude, I actually _have_ a girlfriend."

Dick rolls his eyes, even though he knows Wally can't see it. "Wally, what could you possibly need that's got you texting me nonstop?"

"I'm trying to get my best friend's attention!" In the background, Dick hears a muffled voice snap at Wally. Probably Artemis telling him not to shout. "Sorry, babe," he says to her, and then sighs. "Anyway. I was in New York this weekend and the guys I was with took me to this bar and you'll never guess who works there."

"You left me twenty-two texts so you could tell me what old friend you bumped into?"

"Well, yes, but she's definitely more _your_ friend than she is mine," Wally replies, and before Dick can ask what that's supposed to mean, Wally says, "It was Zee."

"Zatanna?"

"What other _Zee_ do we know?" Dick sits down on the edge of the bed. "She works as a bartender there."

"I thought she was a waitress at some café," he says, mostly to himself. He knew she was in New York this whole time, but they haven't really had a chance to chat. Actually, it's been _forever_ since they've really hung out. With him managing the Team and her in the League, they're just busier than ever and don't really get a chance to see each other, other than in passing in the Watchtower or the rare occasions she has the time to stop by the Cave for a bit.

"She's both." Dick raises his eyebrows. "I didn't get to talk to her about it much, though. I figured she either has financial problems or just wants extra cash."

"If she's swamped with League duties and still working two jobs, I highly doubt it's because she wants luxury money."

"That's what I thought, too," Wally says. "Anyway, you should go visit her or something and see what's up. She'd probably shoot down any help you try give her—she's like Artemis, you know—but I figured if she really was in a pinch then you could push some of that Wayne family fortune into her lap and make her take it."

"Yeah, alright. I'll drop by as soon as I can," Dick tells him. "Thanks, man."

"No problem. But now we know the moral of the story, right? No more ignoring your best friend."

Dick hangs up.

... ...

Sometimes it really sucks having to work two jobs, but whatever. It pays the bills and it's not like they're really demanding.

She works as a waitress at this café across the street from her apartment from morning until lunch then heads over a few blocks to this sports bar to work the evening shifts. She likes these jobs because they're pretty mellow, so she can still work and do League business without feeling totally dead at the end of each day. And her bosses are kind of freakishly lenient, too. She can disappear if the League needs her and come back, and they're pretty forgiving.

(She's not exactly sure what they think she does when she runs off, but whatever. She's not going to question their kindness, especially when it's something that works to her advantage.)

Anyway.

There isn't a big game today, so the place is pretty slow. There are a few people at the counters and then two tables that are actually filled, and that's about it. She's standing behind the bar and wiping it down with a rag that needs washing, but since the drinks never really touch the counter, she's not too worried.

Someone takes a seat on a barstool not too far from her, and when she asks, "What can I get for you?" she gets distracted by a chipped portion of the counter before she can look up. Did she do that? Woops.

"Surprise me," the guy chuckles, and she swears she looks up so quickly that she thinks her neck snaps.

That voice…

No.

It _couldn't_ be.

But she finds herself staring at her own reflection in the man's shades, and honestly? She's only ever known one person who wore shades indoors, and he has a voice that sounds just like this guy.

And then he tips his head slightly and peers over the rim of his shades and his eyes are the same beautiful shade of blue that she's loved getting lost in since the second he first pulled off the domino mask to show her. "Hey!" She doesn't know why she's laughing, but it's probably because she hasn't seen Dick in forever.

Well, she _has_. She usually sees him at the Watchtower and sometimes at the Cave whenever she has a chance to visit. But seeing him in passing or sharing five-minute conversations isn't the same thing as being able to enjoy his company.

The hug is kind of awkward because she has to lean over the counter to get her arms around him, but she still squeezes him just as tightly (if not tighter) and he still rubs the portion of her back that's covered by her hair like he's always done when he hugs her, letting his hand slide off as they pull apart.

"So, did you still want a drink, or…"

He grins. "Just make whatever's your favorite."

She nods, sits a glass in front of her and pulls out what she needs from behind the counter. "You know, considering that Wally was just here a few days ago, it really shouldn't surprise me that _you're_ here, now." She pauses to look at him again. "What _are_ you doing here?"

"I'm here for you," he says simply, and she has to bite her lower lip to keep her smile from getting any wide. "What? I can't stop by and visit?"

"Of course you can. I guess I just figured your schedule would be way too crazy for you to."

"_My_ schedule's crazy?" She looks at him. "I'm not the one working three jobs."

She laughs and sets the drink in front of him, watching his face as he takes a sip. (She knows it's fruitier than anything he'd probably order on his own, but he still licks his lips like he does whenever he tastes something he likes.) Then she asks, "Wally talked with you?" except that it's more of a statement than a question.

He looks like he's about to answer, and then his phone goes off. He pulls it out of the pocket of his leather jacket laid out on the counter, making a face when he reads whatever text he got.

"When do you get off of work?" he asks.

"Not until 9:00."

"That's perfect, actually." She throws up an eyebrow. "I've got stupid stuff," he explains, and she shakes her head because she knows he's talking about Wayne Tech business. "I'll be back by then, though. I'll take you out to eat."

She can't help but laugh. "Do I get a say in this?" she asks, even though it's a given that she'd still say yes.

But then he tips his head so that his blue eyes meet hers as he asks, "Will you come to dinner with me, _please_?" and, _crap_, she's totally missed him.

"I'd love to."

He gives her that _smile_ she's always, always loved, pushes his drink in front of her and then pulls out his wallet. He places a few bills on the counter, and then leans over and tucks a few more into her blouse pocket, and she knows that it's definitely more than enough money to cover his drink.

He leaves without taking his jacket, though, and when she calls after him and holds it up, he just laughs and says, "_Leverage_. So I expect you to give it back when I see you tonight!"

... ...

He texts her at the end of his meeting and she replies with the address of the restaurant, saying that they'll just meet each other there.

He doesn't know how fancy or not this place is, so he changes out of his suit and into khaki pants and a button-down with a sweater over because it's pretty suitable for most occasions. Then he zetas to the zeta tube nearest to the address and walks the few blocks to the restaurant, since it's less of a hassle this way.

She's standing outside waiting for him when he gets there, and he sees that she's changed out of her work clothes. She's wearing this fitted red dress and black boots that stop below her knee and his leather jacket that's kind of big on her but somehow it just works.

The restaurant is this cozy, Italian place with brick oven pizzas and a million different types of wine on display. All of the chefs and waiters call her by her name, so it's safe to assume that she's here pretty often, and he smiles because it's definitely easy to picture her coming here during her lunch breaks or on weekends.

"This one's my favorite."

The head chef has just poured another type of wine that he insists Dick needs to try into their glasses. They've had more than a few sips of over a dozen already, but they both walked and she said that her place is just two blocks over, so he doesn't feel _too_ worried about how much they've been drinking.

Zatanna watches as he takes a sip, smiling when he hums. "You like it?" He nods and licks his lips. "It's good, right?"

"Who could've guessed an Italian would have a good taste in wine?"

She throws a crumpled napkin at him and he laughs.

Then he sets his glass back down on the table and says, "So," in a way that makes her raise her eyebrows. "Any particular reason why you're working two jobs?"

She looks at him and then sighs, presses her lips together and stares down at her glass as if she were wondering if she's had enough wine to have this conversation with him. Then she confesses, "It's kind of hard to pay rent when you can't hold a steady job."

"'Tanna…"

"You don't have to be so worried about me," she laughs, though he's not sure what's funny about her situation. "Honestly, I don't mind working two jobs."

"I do." She meets his eyes again. "Look, I know you don't need anyone to take care of you, but I just don't want you to have to overwork yourself."

She just stares at him, and for a second he thinks that she's mad for bringing this up. But it must be the win or the fact that it's been so long since they've done this—sat down and had dinner and talked—because she rolls her eyes and says, "Then what do you propose I do about it?"

"You can live with me."

Her eyes widen. "Excuse me?"

And honestly, he's been thinking about it ever since Wally called him the other night. There's no way she would just take money if he hands it to her, or let him pay the bills for her. He knows her too well to even suggest it either.

But she may consider the idea of moving in with him since his place isn't even really his. It's Bruce's. Well, sort of. Bruce bought the house for him the minute Dick mentioned that he couldn't live in the Mansion forever, and it actually took some compromising until he let Dick start paying for utilities and whatnot. Dick knows Zatanna wouldn't consider living with him for free, so if splitting those bills with him makes her feel better about moving in, he'll let her.

Plus, the place is really big considering that it's just him who lives there, so it's not like she'll be crowding him. Actually, having the company would be nice, especially since it's her. He bets she probably feels as lonely as he does from time to time, living on her own. At least this way the place won't feel so empty anymore.

And if she's worried about her job situation, that's not that big of a deal. She can work at Wayne Tech with him and Bruce, or there are a lot of places that will hire her if they ask. They've got connections. And it helps that she's pretty and charming and has people wrapped around her finger most of the time, so.

He lays that all out of the table before she can protest or shoot down the idea completely.

So now she's chewing on her bottom lip like she does whenever she has to think for a few minutes, and he just sips more wine and lets her think.

"Why do you have to do this to me?" she asks after a long moment, but she's laughing and he smiles at that.

"Do what?"

"Be right all the time."

"I'm not right _all_ the time." She rolls her eyes. "So…"

"Honestly?" She looks at him. He just waits. "I don't hate the idea."

He's laughing now, too. "You don't, huh?"

"It's kind of a perfect solution, actually. And I kind of miss being roommates," she admits, poking his shoulder from across the table, and he grins. She moved out of the Cave their senior year to make room for all of the new members, and ended up staying at the Mansion until she turned eighteen and could live on her own.

"So you'll do it?"

She laughs and nods, nudges his calf with her foot under the table for no particular reason and asks the head chef for a refill so they can toast to it.

... ...

They toast again the day she actually moves, with Dick's glass flutes and the champagne that Wally and Artemis brought over. She wanted to get the moving over with all at once, so the four of them spent more than the entire first half of the day loading and unloading, with her boxes and smaller furniture just scattered around his living room and her larger pieces sitting in his garage. It's kind of hilarious, actually, how disorganized they were about this.

When Artemis and Wally leave, she sits on the arm of the couch and sort of just stares at all of her stuff lying around. "Unpacking is going to suck."

"I think we'll survive," Dick laughs, and she just smiles at him, clinks their glasses together and downs the rest of her drink.

... ...

Her room gets put together pretty quickly. There are still boxes and furniture in the garage, which she said are things she would've donated or put into storage a while ago if she could've afforded it, so he just tells her that she can keep everything there for now since there's enough room.

When she asks about getting the paper so she can hunt down jobs, he laughs and she gives him a look. "What?"

"You haven't even been here for a day and you're looking for work."

She rolls her eyes and laughs. "I told you I wasn't going to be living here unemployed."

He just gives her this smile and opens up one of the kitchen drawers, pulls out a vanilla folder and tosses it in front of her.

Zatanna throws up an eyebrow at him and he just takes a sip of his lukewarm coffee and waits. She opens the folder and takes a few seconds to sift through a few of the pages and look over all of his circling and scribbles in marker, and then lets out a small laugh and sets everything back down. "Why am I not surprised that you already did the job hunting for me?"

"Well, there's a position open for you at the Wayne Tech office, too," Dick says, and she looks up at him. "You'd be working with me and Bruce. But I figured that you'd be stubborn and want to get a job on your own, so I wanted to make sure you had options."

Her eyes are sparkling when she smiles. "Should I be offended that you just called me stubborn, or flattered at how well you know me?"

He just shrugs.

She laughs and stands up, yawning and stretching her arms over her head, and Dick has to look away because her shirt gets pulled up and he catches a glimpse of her skin, and yeah. If he starts thinking about his new roommate like_ that_ the very first day she's moved in, they're going to be in trouble. Or, at least _he_ will be.

"It's late," she says absently. "I'm sorry I kept you up. Do you have work tomorrow?"

"Yeah. And usually Bruce and I can usually leave a little after lunch, but we have another meeting so I probably won't be home until 6:00."

She nods, and then blinks as if something were just occurring to her. "What did you want for dinner?"

"Uh, I was probably going to order…"

She shoves his shoulder, hard, and he blinks at her. She rolls her eyes. "For someone who treats his body as a temple, that's horrible. Just because you get intensive exercise daily doesn't mean you can dump whatever you want into your body."

"I don't order in _all_ the time."

"Well, we're going to try and not order in at all," she declares, nudging him aside with her hip so she can put her empty mug into the dishwasher.

He sort of laughs and shakes his head at the smile she gives him, because it's the one she has whenever she's determined to get something she wants. And it's not until she tells him, "Goodnight. Think about what we're eating tomorrow," and is walking away that Dick realizes he pretty much lost his single-pronoun status.

Not that he minds if it's her.

... ...

She wakes up feeling totally refreshed, which is kind of weird considering she was moving things all day yesterday and slept really late, but whatever. She's just in a really good mood. She just left her cramped apartment that took two jobs to pay rent for, so why wouldn't she be?

And, okay, a lot has to do with the fact that she's living with Dick now.

They've _always_ had this thing where they flirt with each other without ever really talking about or addressing it and yesterday wasn't an exception. It's probably why it took so long to unpack, but whatever. It's fun.

Anyway, she steps outside her room and hears the shower running, which means that Dick didn't wake up too much earlier than her. She always used to make fun of him because he could be half asleep and still venture to the shower right after waking up, like it was just a default setting of his. He'd told her that it was a habit he got from Bruce and because the water wakes him up, but she would still laugh and call him weird.

She starts boiling water and then gets coffee brewing. She usually drinks tea instead of coffee in the morning, but Dick seriously can't function without it.

Then she opens the pantries and fridge and sees that there's an _overwhelming_ amount of food, which is probably in case of Wally and Artemis visiting. When she hears Dick walking into the kitchen a few minutes later, she has scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage, and a few waffles ready on the island counter.

"Smells good in here," he says, sitting on a barstool.

She turns around and smiles widely. (What? He's always looked really, really good in a suit. Even if his tie and collar are stupidly crooked.) She hands him a fork and a plate, pours some coffee into a mug and splashes in some creamer and sugar.

"You're just like Bruce. The both of you _claim_ to like it black, but…" He grins as she hands it to him. "I don't know why, since you both hate anything bitter."

He shrugs and takes a sip, making an appreciative noise from the back of his throat. "You always did make a perfect breakfast."

"Don't be such a suck-up."

He smiles.

"Gosh, you're a mess." She walks around the island and pushes his shoulder lightly, and he turns the barstool to face her. She takes his collar between his fingers and straightens it out before tugging his tie back into place. "I can't believe you walk out of the house without fixing yourself up first."

"Come on. It's part of my charm."

She's laughing again as she rolls her eyes. "Just eat your waffles, Dick."

... ...

They've been texting pretty much nonstop ever since he got into his office, and some of the things they talk about… Well, obviously they're dorks and they talk about random stuff and have these intense debates over things that really don't mean all that much. It's kind of hard to keep from bursting out into laughter.

She meets him in the city for his lunch break, because she was already out trying to explore the area. Apparently she spent a few hours at this bookstore that's a few blocks away from their place and right next to a café and a bakery, and up the street are all of these vintage shops that she went browsing around in. He knew those were there, obviously, but he just hasn't had the time or the need to go to that area.

"Did you try getting any job interviews?"

She laughs and shakes her head. "I was going to, but I got distracted. I did see this one restaurant that has a bar that I think would… What?"

"Out of all the jobs you could go for, why do you gravitate towards those?"

She blinks at him, and for a second he thinks he may have offended her or something. But then she just shrugs. "I guess I'm just used to those types, since I worked so many of them trying to pay for my old place."

"You know, the offer still stands on you working at Wayne Tech," he tells her. "You'd be making more money and you could get started right away."

She laughs. "Do you think us working together is such a good idea?"

"What do you mean? We make a great team."

"I didn't mean _that_," she says with a roll of her eyes. "I meant that if we worked together then neither of us would get any work done. We'd distract each other, and we'd probably just be disturbing the whole building and then no one else would be getting any work done, either."

Yeah, that's probably true. But he grins, anyway. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

She laughs again. "I'll keep that in mind."

... ...

When she gets home after lunch, Dick texts her and says that his family is supposed to be coming over for dinner and he'd forgotten with the move and all. She laughs and texts him back saying not to worry and that she'll take care of dinner.

Except now she has to find something to serve six.

They probably wouldn't mind if she threw together some salad and pasta and bought a pie for dessert, though considering they usually have Alfred making their every meal, she thinks dinner ought to be something more interesting. She knows it doesn't need to be, but…

Whatever. She likes finding new recipes, and it's been a while since she's had someone other than herself to cook for.

She browses Google for a few minutes until she finds a recipe for lemon chicken and one for this herb sauce to put over halibut. She also finds a recipe for Roman-style carbonara, so they can eat that instead of rice. She'll probably steam some vegetables, too. And she can make tiramisu for dessert and a few different flavors of biscotti to go with their after-dinner coffee, which she knows is a must with Bruce.

It's actually kind of fun to plan a big dinner.

(She wonders if this is how Artemis feels whenever she cooks for Wally. She'll have to ask sometime.)

... ...

The house smells amazing when he walks in, and he can't remember the last time he came home to a meal that was already cooked for him.

It's awesome.

Zatanna is standing with her back to him and off to the side of the open oven, one hand holding a glass of wine while the other is using a pair of tongs to flip over the biscotti on the tray. She looks over her shoulder, though, when she hears him walking in, and gives him a smile that's totally sexy.

(And he really needs to stop thinking of his new roommate like that. But he can't help it.)

"How was work?" she asks as he walks over to her. She hands him her glass, and then closes the oven and sets the timer for six more minutes.

He takes a sip of her wines. "Boring, of course," he exhales, and she laughs because she probably expected as much. "How was _your _day? It looks like you had fun." He saw pasta and chicken and fish on the table, and there's a pan of vegetables on a burner.

"I did, actually."

"You didn't have to go through so much trouble," he tells her. "I mean, they would've been fine eating like, lasagna or something."

"I wanted to," she says simply, shrugging one shoulder. "Besides, I had all this extra time. And I haven't seen your family in a while, so I wasn't going to just make them eat something bland."

He laughs a little, and she reaches for her drink. He doesn't know why, but he brings the rim to her lips instead of just handing it back to her and tips it so she can take a sip. He also doesn't know why he watches her lick her lips, but it's another one of those things that makes her look totally sexy without her even having to try.

The doorbell rings before he can do something stupid like tell her how sexy she's being right now, and he hands her back her glass and goes to answer it.

"It smells good," Bruce says, sounding pleasantly surprised, and Dick chuckles.

"I thought the same thing when I came in, too."

Tim gives him a weird look, and then Zatanna walks into view and everyone kind of stops taking off their coats. Shit, yeah. He may have forgotten to tell Bruce that Zatanna is living with him now. And she can tell they weren't informed of her presence, either, because she shoots him.

"Did I mention Zatanna is my new roommate?"

Selina laughs when Zatanna rolls her eyes, and then pulls her into a hug. "You look beautiful," Selina tells her, and Bruce kisses the top of her head. Then Tim gives her a hug, too, and she ruffles his hair before turning to Alfred and pecking his cheek.

It's awesome how comfortable she's always been with his family.

"Let's eat?"

... ...

Dinner with Dick's family was actually really fun.

It's been a while since she's actually sat down and had dinner at a decent time, let alone with other people. She was usually working one of her jobs or occupied with League business, and because she had weird hours and this really messed up schedule, she didn't really eat meals at traditional or even practical times.

She just ate whenever she had enough free time to sit down and make something, and when she couldn't even have that, she snacked.

_God_, that's actually kind of depressing now that she thinks about it.

Anyway.

They talked and laughed while they were eating, and everyone ate until there was pretty much nothing left and still finished almost half of the tiramisu, so she's glad that she made as much as she did. Then they sat in the living room drinking coffee and eating biscotti, and they pretty much asked about her life (that wasn't League-related, anyway, because they already know about that stuff) after she moved out of the Mansion.

And, well, she sat next to Dick on the loveseat because Alfred was sitting in the armchair and Tim was sitting with Bruce and Selina on the couch. And she was kind of leaning against him and had her head resting on his arm where it was laid along the back of the loveseat, and she knows exactly what this looks like.

She also knows that they know she moved in because Dick offered and not because they're together or anything.

But then she's taking everyone's empty mugs and rinsing them so she can put them in the dishwasher, and Bruce walks in with the empty plate the biscotti had been on and he gives her a smile as he lowers it into the sink.

"You two work well together," he says, and she actually _blushes_. "I mean that it will be nice for you both to have the company again."

And she nods because, yeah. It's barely been a day, but she doesn't have trouble seeing them living together for a while.

"But, you're good for each other, too," he adds almost absently. Except, he's not the kind of person that says things just to say them, and when she's blushing and turning to look at him, he chuckles a little and she flicks a little water at him to distract herself.

Oh, my gosh. Did that just really happen?

But then they're saying their goodbyes and Dick has his arm around her shoulder as they watch them drive off, and when Dick wishes her goodnight, she mutters it back too quickly and slips inside her room before she can act upon this urge to kiss him that she's had ever since he showed up at the bar.

She's totally screwed.

... ...

He likes that all she really does for the next few days is explore the city and organize her room (since she kind of just unpacked all of the boxes and threw everything in there).

He wants her to just relax for a while and not rush into any new jobs like she claimed she was going to, especially after they had dinner with his family and he learned just how often she worked when she'd been on her own. She definitely looks a lot more alive and animated than when he first found her, and he knows it's because she's actually getting enough sleep and not just settling with where she's at anymore.

And it's nice to wake up and start his mornings with her and meet her during his lunch breaks and come home to her reading a book or something. She texts him during work and they talk about their day over dinner, and she leans against him when they sit on the couch and eat dessert while watching TV.

He likes having her around.

And, okay, it kind of complicates things when he finds himself looking at her and… Well, she's always looked really good, and maybe it's because they stopped hanging out for a while, but she's even prettier than he remembers her ever being and it's hard to not want to tell her all the time.

He knows she'd appreciate it if he did, but she'd also know that he means it as more than just a compliment and he doesn't want things to be awkward, especially now that she's really settling in.

But he can't help thinking of her like that, just as much as she can't help how she looks or acts. It's like she was meant to be perfect or something.

Then again, he's always thought that.

... ...

A little over a week after the move, Artemis asks her out for drinks. Apparently, she had a crappy day and was in a bad mood, and then she came home and Wally made it worse and they blew up into a stupid argument, so she stormed out and now they're just pissed at each other.

She just listens to Artemis vent about all of this for the first twenty minutes, since the girl gets talkative when you get alcohol into her system.

Then Artemis convinces her to have another drink, and really, she should've known she was going to have more than one or two. Artemis doesn't want to do things alone. Like, if she wants to have five or six drinks, then she's going to make at least one person she's with have five or six drinks, too.

And tonight, that person just so happens to be Zatanna.

"You're so lucky the guy you live with isn't an absolute idiot," Artemis sighs. "I bet _he_ wouldn't forget Valentine's Day almost every freaking year."

"You're just saying that because you're mad. I mean, you've told me yourself that you aren't really that big on Valentine's Day," she reminds, and then laughs. "And Dick and I aren't in a relationship."

Artemis shoots her a look. "So? You guys might as well be. You're already living together."

"Yeah, because it's beneficial for the both of us."

"So you guys are doing it?" She nearly spits out her drink. Artemis shrugs. "What? As if I didn't notice all of the sexual tension in the air when we helped you move. I was about to lock you guys in the back of the moving truck to see if you would be all over each other or something. Wally talked me out of it, though, so."

"Artemis!"

"Don't look at me like _I'm_ the crazy one! You two have been flirting and acting like you guys are together since we were teens, and now you move in with him and you expect me to believe you haven't thought about being with him at least once?"

Zatanna finishes her cocktail to keep from screaming at her.

"Look, I know you'll try and think I'm saying this because I'm drunk," Artemis says, "but I really do you think you should get together."

"How long have you felt this way?"

"Ever since that first New Year's you two kissed and never actually got together like me and Wally did." Artemis shrugs again and takes another gulp of her drink. "I mean, I wasn't the only one that thought it. We were _all_ thinking it. Like, how could you two be so stubborn or oblivious to not be together? And then you guys started living together for the first time and you _still_ weren't a thing, and we all thought maybe Batman made you promise not to and that's why you weren't."

Zatanna just stares at Artemis for a minute, and then takes Artemis's drink because hers is finished and she's not nearly drunk enough to have this conversation.

"Why _don't_ you? It's obviously you're both really into each other. And, I know you think that living together is even more of a reason _not_ to, but it's really not. It's honestly just more proof that you guys should. I mean, what are you afraid of? Dick's really good to you. And you guys are really good together."

Zatanna glares at her. "I hate you. You drag me out to get drunk and you talk too much and you always have to be right. And I hate you."

Artemis laughs, says, "Love you, too," and waves down the bartender for another drink.

... ...

The girls are at the second bar he and Wally try, just a few blocks from their place. It's probably a good thing that Artemis didn't drive through a zeta tube and that Zatanna doesn't have her own car yet, because they were limited to anything in walking distance and that's a lot easier to work with when trying to find them.

They're both sitting at the counter and huddled together and talking, and when he and Wally walk in, Artemis's smile disappears and she gives Wally a glare that could honestly kill a lesser man if looks could kill.

"Man, what did you do to her? She looks like she wants to cut your head off."

Wally mutters under his breath and they walk over to where the girls are sitting. Wally gives Artemis a look that makes her roll her eyes, but she gets out of her seat and walks over to one of the booths in the corner and doesn't threaten Wally when he follows her, so they're probably going to talk it out and stuff.

Dick sits in Artemis's empty seat, and Zatanna bites her lip and smiles at him like a little kid that knows that they're in trouble. "Hey."

"Hey," he chuckles. "Just how much did you two drink?"

"Only a little," she insists, holding her thumb and index finger an inch apart to emphasize her point. He arches an eyebrow and she sighs. "Six rounds, I think?"

"That doesn't sound like only a little," he laughs, and she doesn't protest when he pulls the glass out of her hand.

He looks over his shoulder at Wally and Artemis. Wally's now sitting on the same side of the booth as her while they're talking, and Artemis looks like she's actually being merciful to whatever he's telling her, so they're probably not going to be here much longer. When he turns back to Zatanna, she has her chin in her hand and looks like she's seconds from passing out and she's being totally adorable without even trying.

He brushes his fingers against the spot on her side where she's really ticklish, and she squirms and giggles a little and gives him a shove. "Stop!"

"How much did everything cost?"

She tilts her head at him. "How was I supposed to remember? I'm _drunk_."

He laughs. "Then exactly how did you plan on paying for everything? Or getting home?"

"I don't know," she admits, kicking her dangling legs a little. "But I knew you wouldn't just leave me here, either."

"Yeah?"

She meets his eyes from underneath her long lashes and gives a smile. "Yeah. I knew you'd find me. You always do." Then she pulls her chin out of her hand and puts both of her hands on his legs, leaning forward until her head is leaning against his chest. "I wasn't planning on drinking so much. Artemis made me."

"That sounds like Artemis," he chuckles.

"Can we go home?" she mumbles into his shirt, and it's the first time he's heard her allude to it as _their_ place, not just his. It puts a stupidly wide smile on his face.

"Of course."

... ...

Her head is _pounding_ when she wakes up, thanks to the amount of alcohol Artemis convinced her into thinking was okay to drink.

It's already past 8:00, so Dick probably left a while ago. She feels bad, actually, because this is the first morning since she moved in that she hasn't made him his coffee and breakfast. Not that she feels like she's obligated to, or that Dick expects it of her. She just likes doing it for him. It just feels like it's a part of their routine now.

So instead of heading to the kitchen like usual, she walks across the hallway and gets a bath started, stopping the drain when the water is just below scalding and there's steam everywhere. A hot bath never fails to get rid of her headaches. It probably won't cure her hang over, but she's sure it'll make her feel fine enough to take some Advil and slice up some fruit and get coffee started, because this is one of those situations where it helps her more than her morning tea.

Her head _hurts_. She's seriously going to kill Artemis as soon as she feels well enough to.

At least she gets the satisfaction of knowing that she gets to stay home while Artemis has to go to class hung over. She's being childish, but whatever. It _is_ Artemis's fault she's like this.

Anyway.

She scrubs shampoo and conditioner into her hair and soaks in the tub until she starts to feel herself prune, and then rinses herself off and starts to drain the bath. Then she wraps a towel around her head and uses another to pat herself dry before wrapping it around herself and cinching it into place.

She gets instant goose bumps as soon as she steps into the hallway, because the bathroom was pretty much a sauna and the hallway is cold in comparison.

Except, she hears a door close down the hallway and she bites her lower lip to keep from screaming, throws a hand over where her towel's joined to keep it up as she whips around and has her hand up, the words of a spell forming in her head.

"Whoa," Dick says with a laugh, holding his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing here?" she breathes, straightening out of her stance. "I thought someone broke in or something."

He throws an eyebrow up. "I doubt anyone would've made it in still conscious," he comments, and she giggles because, yeah, this house has Wayne Tech security all over. "And to answer your question, I'm here because I live here."

She rolls her eyes, which kind of makes her head throb. "You're supposed to be at work."

"I told Bruce I'm working from home today so that I can keep an eye on you." She crosses her arms. She's not sure if she should find this sweet or patronizing. It's probably both. Then he laughs again like he knows what she's thinking. "Just suck it up and let me take care of you. You were pretty hammered last night."

She's groaning at the mention of last night.

"What happened, anyway? I remember you and Wally coming and then talking with you, and then I was staring at the floor…?"

"I guess you fell asleep on the barstool," he says with a shrug. "Not much happened after that. Artemis and Wally made up, I drove them to the nearest zeta tube, told Artemis that I hope she wakes up tomorrow feeling like crap for peer pressuring you, and then I drove us home and tucked you into bed."

"Okay, the fact you threatened Artemis makes me feel better." He laughs. "Thank you."

He smiles at her for a moment, and then blinks and tips his head so that his bangs sort of fall over his eyes as he looks away. She looks at him for a second, and then blushes as she remembers that she's just wearing a towel.

"When you get changed, there's some coffee and Advil and fruit salad downstairs," he tells her. "You know, if that's still your hang over remedy."

She's only ever been hung over while living with him once before this, which was that one eventful spring break after she moved into the Mansion and the Team kind of went all out because Bruce gave them the unspoken okay to drink even though they were all underage. She shouldn't find it so sweet that Dick still remembers.

So she walks up to him, puts her hands on his shoulders and stretches up to kiss his cheek. He's smiling at her when she pulls away a little, and she knows she shouldn't, but she lets her eyes linger on his lips before she steps back.

... ...

She's adorably childish when she's recovering from a hangover, though considering how she acted _when_ she was drunk last night, he shouldn't be so surprised.

But she took Advil with her coffee in the kitchen, and when he said that she should sit with him in the living room, she pouted that her head hurt and moving would hurt it even more. Then when he finally got her onto the couch, she tugged on his shirt right as he sat down and asked for some fruit salad.

He'd think she's just messing with him if he hasn't seen her like this during a hangover before.

He has his feet propped up on the coffee table and his laptop in his lap as he's looking over a Wayne Tech shipment to Taipei, and she's sitting next to him and watching TLC with her legs crossed and a mug of sliced fruit in hand.

She makes this noise and he looks up at her, and then follows her eyes to the screen. There's a bride-to-be in this puffy dress with a skirt that reminds him of a bird, and it's not like he's an expert in fashion, but he's not ignorant, either. You don't hang around the socially elite without learning the dress code. This look is exotic and there are some women who could probably pull this dress off really well. This woman just isn't one of them.

"You know," she says absently, "I don't want just a white wedding dress."

He looks back at her. "You don't?"

"I've always wanted a splash of black on mine," she tells him. "Like, the beading on the bodice would be black, and then there would be black lacing on the skirt."

She puts her mug in his hand and pulls her laptop onto her knee, minimizes all of his stuff and pulls up some bridal dress site. He's just totally amused as he watches her click away, and then her eyes light up as she finally sees something that she likes.

"Something like this," she says, turning the screen towards him, and then blinks and closes it altogether. "Actually, I can't show you."

"Why not?"

"Because that's bad luck!" she laughs. He almost tells her that that's only when the groom sees it, but then that makes him think about her and him and getting married, and he eats one of her melon cubes to distract himself from blushing or wondering if she's ever thought about a future between them like that.

... ...

Dick convinces her to take the job offer at Wayne Tech.

She tells him that the only reason she agrees is because she's already gone two weeks after the move without a job, and because that means they can carpool and he doesn't need to buy her a car (which is also something he's being persistent about).

But honestly?

She didn't take the job in the first place because she knew they would be spending a lot of time together as it is. It's not like she hates being with him, because she _doesn't_. She _loves_ being with him, and that's exactly the problem. She's been having a hard enough time trying to keep from throwing herself at him when they're at home, so now that she's going to be working with him, too, when he's wearing _a suit_ all day long, she's even more screwed than she already was.

And she knows women stare at him all the time. God, _she_ stares at him all the time and she's had years to practice a little self-control. But she also knows that if she sees girls making eyes at him at the office or trying to flirt with him, she's going to lose it. At least when they're apart, she doesn't have to witness any of that.

All of these stupid hormonal urges of hers are exactly why she left the Mansion as soon she turned eighteen.

But she takes the job, anyway, because she really ought to start working. And, okay, because she's selfish and knows that Bruce and Dick won't have her start at the bottom like you're supposed to.

She'll be dealing with international affairs directly with Bruce and Dick themselves. She's totally letting them spoil her, but whatever.

The Wednesday she starts, she gets up an hour earlier than usual so that she'll be ready and making breakfast at her usual time when Dick typically wakes up and ventures into the shower. She doesn't know why, but she really _does_ like making breakfast for them, and if she needs to set her alarm earlier to do so, she will.

Dick gives her a tour of the building and then shows her to her office, which is down the hallway from his and Bruce's, and she giggles a little because she's _totally_ being spoiled right now. And because she's immature, because she's got her arm looped through his and he leans down to whisper something into her ear and women are totally glaring at her for being so close to him.

"I made about two hundred enemies today because of you," she tells him when she's sitting in her chair and he's perched on the corner of her desk.

"What are you talking about?"

"I swear, there were at least thirty different women on each floor that wanted to gut me with their letter-openers."

He laughs and waves his hand dismissively. "A, I wouldn't let them touch you, and B, neither would you." She shrugs and gives a smile. Well, yes, that's true. "So, come by Bruce's office at 12:00 for lunch, okay? We usually eat together."

"You do realize that that's in an hour, right?" she asks. "So that means I would've been behind my desk for only an hour before taking a lunch break."

"It's a date!"

And she's shaking her head at him because he totally waited until he was in the hallway so he could say that loud enough for everyone to hear.

Like she said, she's totally screwed.

... ...

Having Zatanna at work with him is a lot of fun, which he never doubted. He doesn't see her _all_ the time, obviously, but he sees her often enough and they live together, so he basically spends 96% of his day with her. He wonders if it's a bad thing that he totally doesn't have a problem with that.

It probably is, but whatever. He's not going to question an arrangement that works out so well.

She eats lunch with him and Bruce and Selina sometimes, and the other times, they go out to eat like they used to when she wasn't working and she'd meet him in the city during his lunch break. It's kind of wild that he can spend so much time with one person and never get bored of being with them or run out of things for them to talk about. But then he remembers this is _Zatanna_, and, well, that's that.

... ...

She knows pretty much after the accident happens that he's going to freak out over everything, which is stupid and she'll tell him as much, because they've both taken a lot worse hits than this.

She was chasing down an armed robber that had stolen a car to drive off in, and the only reason he got away was because there were more than one at the bank and everyone was too distracted. She was the only one to notice him, though not until he was already speeding off, and she jumped onto a cop's motorcycle to chase him down (she figured he wouldn't mind) because he was getting further away and she didn't want to risk hitting nearby civilians with a long-distance spell.

When she's close enough, this car came at her from the side and she swerved to avoid it and ended up hitting her head on the concrete when she tumbled. But she didn't want to lose the robber, so got up faster than she probably should've and used a spell to cage the car in streetlights.

A policeman that had been following her on his own motorcycle went over to check on her, and when he put his hand over her hair, it came back red.

Then when she got back to the Watchtower to go to the infirmary, everyone was kind of all over her at once as if none of them have had worse things than this happen before. It's probably there's a lot of blood, but whatever, it's a head injury so of course there's a lot of blood. But then she got kind of dizzy and unfocused and she twisted herself away in time to empty her stomach onto the floor instead of them.

Dick pretty much storms into the infirmary when he gets there, and she's sitting on one of the beds with Diana stitching her head. He lets out this breath and makes his way over to them in like, two seconds, and Diana fills him in on everything he wants to know without him having to ask any questions.

When Diana's done, she leaves to get things to help with her headache and nausea, and then Dick's standing in front of her and not saying anything.

"Don't be mad," is all she can think of to say, because he only ever gets this quiet when he's so pissed off that the sound of a pin dropping would set him off.

He kind of looks at her strangely for a minute, and then his shoulders relax just a little and his eyes soften a bit. "I'm not mad at you," he tells her, and she knows him enough to hear the underlying message.

"Don't be mad at the guy, either." He glares at her. "The road was slippery because of the rain earlier and he lost control of the wheel. It's not his fault."

"You might've been seriously injured had you hit your head a little harder," he says, as if she Diana hadn't already told her. "And to go ahead and get back up and perform a spell like that when you had a concussion? What were you thinking?"

"I was doing what I always do." She doesn't mean to raise her voice, and she knows he's just worried, but… "You can't be mad at me for doing my duty."

"Can I be mad at you for not taking care of yourself?"

Under any other circumstance, she probably would've laughed. "No. I thought you just said you weren't mad at me?"

He sighs and mumbles something that her fuzzy senses don't quite pick up, and she just looks at him and blinks her heavy eyelids. "I'm not mad at you," he says again, and she closes her eyes and tugs him forward by his shirt and (carefully) leans her forehead against his chest. "You just really scared me."

"I didn't mean to," she whispers softly.

"I know."

She closes her eyes. "Can we go home?" she asks, and he puts a hand over her forearm and runs his thumb across her skin as he tells her, "Of course."

... ...

Diana told them that she should be okay to move around so long as it's not extraneous, which Dick wishes she hadn't said in front of Zatanna, because he knows that means she'll still want to go to work and he can't make up an excuse to not let her. At least Bruce made her promise to lay off League duties for a while.

His family is coming over tonight, and he manages to convince Zatanna to let him take care of dinner while she does dessert. It's been a few days since her accident and she's not so nauseas anymore, but her head still hurts a little and she's kind of drowsy sometimes. She hates that she isn't entirely better yet, and sometimes it takes a bit of reasoning with her to let her know that he's not babying her or something, just wants her to recover faster.

"It smells really good."

He switches off the burner he's using. "Don't sound so surprised."

She laughs. "What time is your family supposed to be coming over, anyway?" she asks, checking the digital clock on the oven. "It seems late already."

"Well, Bruce called and said something came up and they're running a little behind," he tells her. "They should be here by now, though."

He turns to look at her and smiles. Her hair is a little curlier at the ends, and the dress she's wearing is red with thin straps and a hem that falls just above her knees. It hugs her curves and shows just enough skin and she looks great in it, so it's kind of messed up that all he can think about is getting her out of it.

Shit. He _needs_ to stop thinking about her like that.

"Do you feel okay?" he asks. She rolls her eyes like she's been doing ever since her accident, but answers him with a nod and doesn't protest when pushes his fingers through her hair and lightly runs them over the spot where she'd hit the pavement.

She doesn't flinch this time, either, so he believes she's not just trying to pacify him whenever she says she's feeling better.

As he's pulling his hand away, his thumb grazes the apple of her cheek and the way she straightens up a little bit in response makes him stop, his palm just barely touching her skin. Her eyes shift up to look at him, but they stop at his lips before she can actually meet his eyes. Then she's reaching out a little and taking his shirt between her fingers and taking a small step forward, finally lifting her eyes from his lips to meet his own.

And then the doorbell rings and snaps them both out of whatever trance they were just in, and he mutters a curse in Farsi under his breath and looks away. He feels her release his shirt, smoothing her fingers over the wrinkles she must've left before finally letting go and taking a step back.

She swallows, hard. "I'll get it. Set the table, okay?" she tells him, and then he's listening to the sound of her heels clicking against the hardwood as she goes to answer the door.

... ...

This thing where she almost gives into her hormones and almost does something stupid that may ruin this thing she was with Dick really needs to stop.

This morning she slept through her alarm and woke up with a throbbing between her legs, and if Dick wasn't already in the shower and she couldn't take care of herself right away, she didn't think she could…

Well, she wasn't really thinking all that much at the time, so.

She honestly doesn't know where that came from, either, because yesterday was a pretty normal day for them. They were just sitting on the couch, her watching TLC on the flat screen and him on his laptop pretending to not like watching this channel with her as much as he really does. She doesn't know why that would've made her dream about Dick pinning her against the island and going down on her in the middle of their kitchen.

And she's kind of relieved that Dick's family is over for dinner tonight, because after this morning, she doesn't trust herself to be alone with him. She knows that she's going to be alone with him tonight as soon as they leave, but she's hoping by then she'll have reined in her stupid hormones.

So she talks with Tim and Alfred most of the night (well, Tim talks, and Alfred only listens and contributes every so often) because she hasn't had any real quality time with either of them, and she sees Bruce and Selina at work all the time.

Tim offers to help her clear the table tonight and the others move into the living room for coffee and banana bread.

"So, are you and Dick fighting or something?"

The plates clatter loudly in the sink as she looks at him. From the other room, Dick asks, "Is everything okay? Do I need to go in there?"

"Everything's fine," she calls back, and then tucks some of her hair behind her ear. "Why do you ask, Tim?"

"I don't know. You two seem kind of tense around each other." He shrugs nonchalantly, and she knows that's to try and put her at ease. She knows body language, and more importantly, she's been around this family long enough to know _their_ body language. Then he smiles as if he knows he's been found out. "So what'd he do?"

"Nothing," she laughs. It's funny that he assumes Dick was the one to mess up. Or, he could've said that because he knew it would make her laugh.

Tim raises his eyebrows at her.

"Seriously, Tim, we're not fighting and we're not mad at each other."

She looks him in the eyes when she tells him this so he knows she's telling the truth, and it works. "Okay, fine. I believe you," he relents. "But that doesn't mean that something's not up. I know something happened."

"Is it genetics in this family for everyone to be such a detective?" she laughs, and then says, "And, yes, I'm aware none of you are really of blood relation."

Tim laughs. "I like you," he says, and she actually blushes a little because he sounds entirely sincere and that's really flattering.

She flicks a little water in his face and he laughs again and dips his hand under the faucet and flicks some back at her. They do this for almost a minute, and then she whaps him with the kitchen towel to get him to stop before they get water all over the place. (And yeah, that was totally Tim's way of dropping the subject.)

Dick shoots her a look that's both amused and curious when she and Tim finally walk into the living room.

She just shakes her head and goes back to trying to squeeze cookie recipes out of Alfred. Unsurprisingly, by the time they're leaving, she knows as much as she did before about those recipes, which was nothing. But this time Alfred tells her that he'll share them soon enough, when before he'd just say that they're family recipes and he wasn't allowed to give them to her, and she thinks way too hard about that as she and Dick stand on the front steps and watch them drive away.

"So, no luck with Alfred and those recipes, huh?" Dick asks, plopping back onto the couch. She laughs and shakes her head. "Are you sure you don't want to just magically make him blurt them out? Or better, make him write them down."

"He's got such an iron grip on those recipes that I don't think my magic is strong enough to pry them from him," she teases.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

She scoffs and swats his arm with a throw pillow.

He chuckles. "So, what was with you and Tim earlier? He seemed determined with finding something out from you."

"He thought we were fighting and wanted to know why," she tells him. His eyebrows go up. "He said we were acting strange. He thought something happened."

Dick looks up and meets her eyes. "_Did_ something happen?"

He asks it in this soft voice that she barely hears, and she bites her lower lip and can't seem to break their stare. Even though she really should, because looking into his blue eyes makes her body do that stupid thing where she can't really breathe and her knees quiver and feel like they'll give out from underneath her.

And she knows exactly what he's doing, too. They both know that she would've kissed him in the kitchen earlier if the doorbell hadn't rung, except apparently that's not enough for him, because he's looking at her like he still wants the answer and he's totally trying to make her say it out loud.

So instead of saying anything, she sets one knee on the couch right next to his leg and leans forward, slides her lips over his and pushes her hands into his hair.

He lets out this groan and puts his hands on her hips, pulling her flushed against him, and she moves to straddle him and doesn't quite care that the hem of her dress gets pushed higher up her thighs. He nips at her bottom lip and digs his fingers into her hips at the same time, and in response she shifts her hips and causes her center to brush against him through his jeans and her panties, and then they're both moaning.

"I've wanted to get you out of this thing ever since you put it on," he says gruffly, tugging at her dress.

She laughs. "That was the point."

He gives her this _smile_, and when he brushes his knuckles over her center instead of taking the thing off, she thinks it's out of spite.

... ...

He wakes up with Zatanna straddling his chest and her arms braced against the pillows so she can lean over him, her hair falling over her shoulders in loose curls. He's kind of been imagining waking up to her in ways not too different from this for a while now, except she isn't usually in her bra and panties like she is now.

"I distinctly remember pulling these off of you with my teeth last night," he mumbles, tracing his thumb over the waistband of her panties.

She laughs. "We have to get ready for work."

"No we don't."

She shakes her head. "We can't just ditch because we don't feel like going in today."

"Sure we can. That's the benefit of being who we are in relation to Bruce," he tells her simply, and she smiles.

God, he's wanted this—_her_—for a long time, even before she moved in with him. He's wanted her ever since they were teens and she first walked into the Cave, it just obviously wasn't to this extent back then.

Reconnecting with her in the past month made it feel like she didn't jump at the first chance she got to move out of the Mansion and consequentially distance herself for as many years as she did. It was hard not to take that personally, either. He knows part of him still did, even if it made sense that she didn't want to feel like a burden on Bruce or like she was invading their personal lives or something by living there. She's just the kind of person that always thinks of others first.

She kind of screwed up his dating life, too, because he didn't really date at all. There were other girls, yeah, but it's because he went months without really talking to her and he felt lonely enough to let himself be with them even though he knew that Zatanna just permanently settled herself in his mind.

She places her hand against his cheek and traces her thumb over his skin, tilting her head a little. "Eventually we're going to have to talk about everything."

He hums in agreement, because they honestly do. He thinks they've already sort of answered most of their questions, but there are still some left and it means a hell of a lot more when the person comes out and declares everything themselves.

And all he really needs to know is if she's wanted this as long as he has.

So he slides his hands over her thighs and squeezes over this spot where she's really sensitive. He found it (by accident, obviously) last night and it make her come pretty much instantly. When he does it now, she lets out this breathy moan from the back of her throat and fists the pillows as she shudders.

He uses those few seconds as a distraction to roll them over and maneuver her underneath him. He probably didn't need to do all that, but whatever. He's not going to pass up any opportunity to drive her crazy.

She's smiling up at him, and he brushes her hair from her face. He dips his head and kisses her gently for a little, feeling her hum against his lips.

"How long?" he asks when he pulls back a little.

"If you mean last night, I've wanted that since you showed up at the bar," she breathes, and then giggles faintly. "The first time, before you asked me to move in with you." He chuckles and slides his fingers over her thigh, watching her eyes fall closed. "If you're talking about _us_… I've wanted _us _since we were kids."

That makes him groan and kiss her again, pressing his thumb over her spot again and pushing his tongue past her lips when they part in a gasp.

He takes her panties off with his hands instead of his teeth this time, but judging by the way she arches against him, he figures she doesn't really mind.

... ...

Only Wally would suggest that they celebrate by going to a strip club. That doesn't really surprise her.

What surprises her is that Artemis agrees to it.

"What do you even _wear_ to a strip club?" she asks, because she's standing in her underwear and staring into her drawers and not exactly sure how she's supposed to be dressing herself.

Dick walks into her room (well, the room that still has all of her stuff in it; she sleeps with Dick in his room, which is technically theirs now) and scratches the back of his neck. "Am I supposed to be answering that for you?" he asks, actually sounding kind of hesitant about it. It makes her laugh. "Because I'm not sure if I should."

She holds her hand out, and he walks over to her and slips their fingers together. "What would _you_ put me in?"

He laughs this time. "Okay, now I'm _sure_ that's some sort of trick question."

"It's not!" He grins and she punches his abs lightly. "I've never been to a strip club before, let alone one that's meant for men to go to."

"Neither have I," he says, and she smiles because she believes him. "I guess you can just wear what you would to a regular club, just… I don't know, cover up a little more? I mean, the place will be packed with creeps. You already look like you do, so if you show enough skin they'll be looking at you instead of the strippers, and I'd rather them _not_."

She blushes, but honestly, how could she not? Though, she's wondering if she should be slightly offended or something.

(Except, she knows she shouldn't be, because this is Dick and she's pretty sure he's incapable of being crass in any capacity.)

"Okay," she laughs, squeezing their joined hands. "I'll only dress like a stripper for you." The way he chuckles tells her that she doesn't even need to do that to drive him crazy. It makes her smile wider. "But, you know I can easily take down anyone in that club that tries to put his hands on me, right?"

"With your eyes closed, Zee," he says, meaning it.

She leans up and presses her lips to his. "Just making sure."

... ...

Personally, Dick thinks there's something a little wrong with Wally dragging them out to a strip club and, on top of that, wanting to take the girls along. It's probably some twisted fantasy of his that Dick won't be asking about.

And it doesn't surprise him that they end up bailing after being there for barely an hour. Actually, he wonders why they stayed that long to being with.

(Except, as he was sitting there and drinking and watching Zatanna, she had her chin in one hand and her other thrumming her fingers on the table and she locked eyes with the stripper, who was twirling around the pole in nothing but a red bra and heels that matched. Zatanna blinked and sort of just tilted her head, not looking as bored as she did two seconds ago, and then her eyes flickered to his and she took her bottom lip between her teeth. It was kind of really hot.)

(He's starting to understand what Wally might've been thinking when he said that they should come here.)

They end up at the Starbucks that's two blocks down from the strip club, and he pulls Zatanna against his chest when Wally gets out of his chair and gets down on one knee and pulls out this small, velvet box from his coat pocket.

Seriously, only Wally West would think of proposing to his girlfriend in Starbucks at midnight after leaving a strip club.

Of course, he's not sure how much of tonight the guy actually planned out, but Wally's a lot more ingenious than people give him credit for. He and Artemis have been making eyes at each other since they walked into the strip club and now she pretty much looks shocked and emotional and turned on all at once.

When their lips are locked, Dick whispers into Zatanna's ear, "Want to get another drink?" and it's kind of hilarious how she's smiling and crying as she nods. He pulls her out of her chair, and she leans against him and gives this little sigh.

The guy behind the counter is still smiling from watching the proposal. "What can I get you?" he asks, and then Zatanna is giggling when Dick winks at her.

"Surprise me."


End file.
